


Bless me

by everfire



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 08:44:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12503480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everfire/pseuds/everfire
Summary: Sanzo is the name that he took when he came to the small village to bring them the word of God. Little did he know that a few short years later a young boy would be the key to him understanding the divine. AU modern setting. MXM This story will actually discuss religion.





	1. Bad

**Author's Note:**

> I do not in any way claim to have all the answers about religion. I also do not claim to know everything or anything about the Catholic church and it's inner workings.

 

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned.” The boy shifted in his seat, his knees coming together. The priest had seen that movement before. The admission of guilt was often coupled with the signs of shame. The child’s brown eyes turned up and then down, fluttering from sight to sight. He bit his lips as he paused.

          The priest waited a few moments for the boy to continue, but when no more words were forthcoming, he prompted, “How long has it been since your last confession, child?”

          The brown-haired boy started, as if caught with his hands in a cookie jar. His dirty fingers threaded with each other in his lap. “I uh…haven’t ever confessed, Father. I am a recent convert.”

          Sanzo nodded. In the small town he had come to, many of the parishioners were new converts. The town had been a pagan one as of only a few years back, but the holy missionaries of the catholic church had seen to it that the town had a well and that the people had a bible.

          He had not been born with the name Sanzo. The people had not understood his foreign title and name. It had been decided to change it to something that the locals would understand better. He was under the impression that it was a word for a native priest of some kind.

Sanzo’s blonde hair was starting to grey, but it was still a sharp contrast to the dark brown hair of his flock. His skin was milky, and his blue eyes were bright even as the beginning of wrinkles formed in their corners. “Go on, my child. What was your sin?”

          “I…uh…stole something that belonged to the old temple.” The boy said carefully, his words broken and heavy with the local accent. Each word falling from his lips like breaking china plates.

          Sanzo blinked and took a closer look at the parishioner. He didn’t recognize the brown hair or honey brown eyes. His deeply tanned skin looked no different from the other children his age. His arms and legs were strong but gangly with the imminent adulthood creeping into his limbs.

          “What did you steal?” The priest prompted again, before turning away to look at the bible before him.

          “Peaches.” The boy said in his crackling voice. The dim light above them hummed with electricity. The thin dividing wall separating them was really no more that a garden trellis repurposed.

          Sanzo scoffed inwardly. “Stealing is indeed a sin, my child. Were those peaches not for all the people of the town? Was that not the truth of all the temple’s goods? Can you steal something that belongs to no one?”

          Air fluffed brown hair as the boy shook it with such wild intensity. “Not these peaches, father. These peaches were the holy relic of our people and none were meant to touch them.”

          The irony of the boy confessing to a crime that was only a crime to a different religion washed over the priest like cold water. He shook off the feeling, but found his own curiosity taking over. “My child, why did you steal the peaches? Were you hungry?”

          There was no pause this time when the boy replied, “I stole them to do something bad.”


	2. Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their second meeting...

It was several days until Sanzo saw the boy again. Head bowed over a rosary, the child was the picture of a pious youth. The smell of the incense filled the humble church, the wooden walls doing very little to hold back the wind that whistled through the slightly cracked window panes. The boy stood before a wall of candles with wax dripping from the table to pool on the worn floor. The statue of the virgin Mary stood watch among the burning wax pillars. Her painted eyes cracking in the humid air.

The priest approached slowly his black shoes making soft scuffing sounds as he moved closer. “My child?”

The boy started as he had before, his shoulder rising up in surprise. He turned those honey eyes up to the taller man and then he smiled. His was transformed as the expression split his face. “Father Sanzo?”

Sanzo clutched his bible closer to his chest and the rosery swung slightly against his fingers. “Did you come to pray today, my child?” He asked the obvious question in the otherwise empty echoes of the church.

The boy stood from where he had been kneeling. The dust from the royal blue pillows that dotted the floor in the prayer chamber still clung to his knees. “I did, Father.” He looked at the ground for a beat before his smiling face turned it’s brilliance back to Sanzo. “I have a question.”

The priest pulled on his collar that he wore under his regular clothing. The simple white shirt and black jeans would not have given way to his profession without the additional white collar against his skin. “Of course,” Sanzo said with a vague gesture meant to encourage the youth to walk beside him.

“Is praying in a quiet room every day the best way to get close to God?” The boy asked as he walked past the prayer chamber and into the chapel proper. The empty pews were lined with similar blue pillows that the congregation would kneel on during mass. The massive crucifix that hung on the farthest wall was in only slightly better condition than the rest of the church that surrounded it.

Sanzo considered the child. He pulled out a fan and waved it in the air before his face. “It is certainly one way.”

The boy nodded, but did not seem to be satisfied his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

Before he could say more the priest continued, “Do you not find quiet prayer to be the way to be close to God, my son?”

His wide eyes turned back to the priest, “I just…wonder if there are better ways?” His voice cracked and his face flushed lightly.

“Perhaps.” Sanzo said with a soft chuckle. “As you are  a young man, I could see how quiet contemplation would be frustrating for you. What have you done to feel God in your life?”

“I like to walk in the woods, and climb trees. Sometimes I feel like I can sense nature just…alive around me.” His grin was soft as he looked at the windows. The branches scraped along the glass in the evening breeze.

“Then perhaps that is a way that you can be close to the Lord.” Sanzo agreed, “But one must have discipline as well.” The priest's fingers clenched and released.

“Is that so, Father Sanzo?” The boy pondered eyes loosing focus for a second.

“My child?” Sanzo asked to pry the boy from his wonderings. “What is your name?”

The sudden question seemed to catch the boy off guard as many things did. “Son Goku.” He replied reflexively, “But please call me Goku.”


	3. Tides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On accident this chapter has 666 words. lol

Once again time passed, and the windy humidity gave way to hot rain. The clouds dripped their heavy wet tears with ponderous smacks into the leaves of the trees. Sanzo looked outside an open door as he snuck a cigarette. The smoke coiled in the air before disappearing out of view into the storm. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Today no prayer was whispered in the echoing halls. Instead the people of the village struggled to prepare their homes for the impending floods. “Thank the Lord that my home is on high ground.” Sanzo prayed for the fifth time since he woke that morning. He silently added a curse to his bishop who had sent him on his mission to a place where such rain was common this time of year.

His sacrilegious thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps interrupting puddles forming on the sidewalk. He opened his eyes and was met with tear filled honey brown ones. “Goku?” he asked unprofessionally. He cursed again inwardly at the intrusion.

“Father! Please may I sit in the church?” He begged with no offered explanation beyond this.

Sanzo sighed outwardly and prayed that God not give him more than he could handle when he was already overwhelmed. “The chapel is always open to the faithful,” he recited.

“Thank you, Father.” Goku said his eyes dimming at the sigh from the older man. “I will try to stay out of your way as much as I can.” With that he walked inside trailing muddy water over the wooden floor.

Sanzo took another slow drag on his cigarette before remembering that he was not supposed to smoke in front of parishioners. The child had said nothing of it, so perhaps that would be the end of it. His eyebrows knitted together, and he rubbed his forehead.

After the pack was empty and crumpled in his hand, hours of watching rain splatter had passed. It wasn’t until he saw the boys soaked body curled into a ball that Sanzo remembered that Goku was there. “My child?”

Goku’s thin arms shivered slightly in his sleep. His dirty boots were tucked under his butt, but the wet mess pooled on the blue pillow around him. The white shirt was still damp enough that it clung to his chest. Sanzo bent to gently shake the boy’s arm. Goku did not wake, but he did stir. He uncurled slightly and moved to lay on his back. His hands came to rest on his chest, and his mouth opened. A small amount of drool rolled down his cheek.

The priest pulled his hand away and his lip curled up on one side. “Ugh.” Sanzo took a step back. A small whimper escaped the boy’s lips.  

When the sun came out the next morning, Goku woke bathed in sunlight tinted by stained glass. Sometime while he had slept a plush green blanket had been tucked around his form. The boy wiped dried spit from his face and blinked his eyes heavily. Sitting before him on a pillow that stood in for a pew was Father Sanzo, his head bowed in prayer.

“Father?” Goku asked blearily.

Sanzo did not move and his eyes remained closed. “Yes, my son?”

“I…” The chopped words came crashing out as Goku tried to make his words clear, “I’m sorry, Father. Did I really sleep here all night?”

Sanzo scoffed, “Yes, Goku, you slept here all night. You made quite a mess of yourself and my church.” He wrapped red rosary bead around his wrist and stood.

“I..I’m sorry I couldn’t help it. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Goku whimpered, struggling to his feet.

The priest sighed, “Grow a backbone, kid.” With a swift turn Sanzo was facing the cowering child. “Everything will be ok.” His comforting hand rested on Goku’s shoulder for a few moments before he turned away again. “As soon as you clean up after yourself, and take a bath. You smell like a wet monkey.”


End file.
